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Thursday, 20 August 2015

Yerevan: laid-back, pink and an ideal base for exploring Armenia

Yerevan, capital of the Republic of Armenia, is a cheerful
place to visit in summertime. The city, many
of whose buildings are constructed out of a distinctive pink stone known as
tuff, is laid-back and full of parks and cafes.

Republic Square, Opera Square and The Cascades, a giant
stairway decorated with fountains and artworks, form an axis, running at a
diagonal to Yerevan’s grid system. These
hubs are linked by a modern avenue of swanky shops. If you’re tempted to clothe your children at
‘Armani Kids’, Armenia could be the country for you.

At Republic Square, crowds gather in the evenings to watch fountains
‘dance’ to lightshows and music. Around
Opera Square, people mingle in a series of outdoor watering-holes, like VIP Café,
where we were moved on for (presumably) not being sufficiently important. At the bottom of The Cascades they loiter around
the artworks, older Armenians staying entertained with the odd game of
backgammon and their younger counterparts making do with selfie sticks.

It’s an easy place to relax and an easier place to
enjoy. But it’s difficult not to be
confronted (and appalled) by some of Armenia’s darker history as well.

Those dancing fountains are overlooked by enlarged photographs, at the front of the History Museum, depicting notable citizens
killed during the Armenian Genocide. The
purple ‘forget me not’ flower, designed to mark the centenary of the genocide,
is visible across the city. It would be
a neglectful visitor who failed to visit Tsitsernakaberd, the Armenian Genocide
Memorial and Museum, which stands on a hill, overlooking central Yerevan.

The museum at Tsitsernakaberd describes atrocities committed
against Armenians in Turkey, during the first world war, from an Armenian
perspective. The story includes a
background of oppression by Ottoman authorities, preceding 1915, and the
genocide’s ‘dark aftermath’. It’s a
deeply affecting exhibit, stirring strong emotions among some members of the
Armenian diaspora who visited while we were there.

Like the Holocaust for Jews, the genocide is understandably
a defining event for Armenians. Their
sense of grievance is particularly acute, because Turkey denies that genocide
took place.

Recognition in the wider international community is also
patchy. The UK’s Parliament, for
instance, has never formally recognised that the massacres comprise ‘genocide’,
although the institutions in all three devolved regions have. The situation is similar in the US, where 43
states recognise the Armenian genocide and the President has spoken of his
personal conviction that genocide took place, but hasn’t moved to recognise it
formally.

Outside the museum, the memorial consists of a circle of twelve
huge stone slabs, representing ‘lost’ Armenian provinces in modern Turkey,
which loom protectively over an eternal flame.
A towering, needle shaped ‘stele’, in two parts, symbolises the
‘rebirth’ of the Armenian nation, following the slaughter.

The complex contains reminders of more recent conflicts
too. On the avenue leading to the
genocide memorial, there is a monument to the first Armenian soldiers killed during
the war in Nagorno-Karabakh. Armenia and
Azerbaijan clashed over the disputed republic, as the Soviet Union fell apart
in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

While the genocide has left an indelible mark on modern
Armenians, the most enduring pillar of Armenian identity is the Armenian
Apostolic Church. Armenia is said to be the first nation to adopt Christianity as a state religion. The country’s ecclesiastical buildings are
among its most popular attractions.

Geghard monastery, for instance, is a short drive from
Yerevan. Its churches and cells are built partly into the rocky mountains which form its backdrop. Geghard also boasts a fine collection of
medieval khachkars, distinctively Armenian flat stones, decorated with the
cross and other motifs, including almost dizzyingly intricate interlacing
patterns.

There was something rather Celtic about the khachkars and
there are theories that monks from eastern churches travelled to the British
Isles and influenced early Christian art in Ireland and Northumbria. At Kathoghike Church, the oldest surviving church
building in Yerevan, we had a brief conversation with a friendly Armenian
priest who implied that there were ancient religious and even racial links between
people in Ireland and Armenia.

He rushed away, before we could test a hypothesis that
seemed to rest on some dubious theories about the origin of both countries
names. However, there are some striking
similarities between the medieval Irish Church and the Armenian Church. Both drew upon older belief systems and
practised forms of Christianity frowned upon by established churches in Rome
and Constantinople.

Philip Marsden’s brilliant book, Crossing Place: A Journey Among the Armenians, takes fascinating
detours through several heresies that influenced the distinctive and
independent form of Christianity which developed in Armenia. This complicated background of traditions and
symbolism made the monasteries and churches we visited, across the country,
particularly interesting.

Travelling around Armenia, visitors are reminded that
Armenian culture and identity have ranged far beyond the boundaries of the
current republic. It is now a small
country, which can be explored comfortably from its charming capital,
Yerevan. It is also a land with varied
landscapes and absorbing traditions, which blends the atmospheres of the Middle
East and Europe.